


Entropy

by Tandirra



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tandirra/pseuds/Tandirra
Summary: Everything was going wonderfully (at least mostly) until Thor showed up on Sakaar and challenged the Grandmaster's champion. Now Loki has to recalculate. That's not really a good thing.





	Entropy

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with this questionable ship. This could technically fit in with the last fic I did for this ship since they have similar tones.

_ “I have a wager placed against you tomorrow, don't disappoint me.”  _ Thor's unamused- no-  _ indifferent _ half-smile at the lie was the last Loki saw of his brother before the illusion faded. He was going to  _ throttle _ that idiot.  _ See Thor willfully ignore his help then. _

But even as Loki snatched back up his cocktail glass, the image persisted, kindling a low boiling rage deep in his stomach he'd let sit for weeks.  _ Couldn't Thor see that he needed help? No, no he never could.  _ Loki was a fool for thinking so.  _ Damn it, damn Thor for being so prideful. If he ever made it off Sakaar then he’d merely die to- _ Thor's tired, distant smile lingered on Loki's mind like a parasite, scraping against some raw nerve; he smothered the writhing discontent by downing his drink. Gritting his teeth against the burn of the alcohol, Loki turned on heel and made his way to the bar, slipping between bodies large and small with the greatest of ease.

Though he entertained himself by imagining the hasty, nervous shuffle of those around him was due to his own abilities, the truth of the matter was impossible to deny. The Grandmaster’s property was off limits and everyone knew it. Even a single accidental brush risked death or dismemberment for the offender. Loki relished in the small power such a claim afforded him and made use of it by menacing the more distasteful Sakaarians when he could. Though he may have to dance for the Grandmaster, he could still make those around him dance too, given the right tune.

He ordered a new drink with a snap and a smile, no payment necessary for the Grandmaster’s dolls. Loki found himself fraying the edge of his cape between his fingers; the restless tangled feeling so heavy in his chest refused to stay quiet. “Ruining everything, as  _ always _ , brother. Can't let me ever win,  _ nooo _ .” He muttered to himself, knowing he sounded like a petulant child and ignoring the strange looks it earned him. He'd deal with the social consequences later. Now though, this knot about his chest was winding him tight. This undefinable, awful tangle that was  _ all Thor's fault. Damn predictable.  _ All his careful planning and Thor’s arrival had upturned every single effort he'd made. It infuriated him.

His drink came, something vibrantly neon blue that fizzed and popped, and he took it without thanks; his head buzzed at his attempts to pick the knot apart and his stomach complained as he drowned his anxiety with more of Sakaar’s strange spirits.  _ Likely not the best combination, fool. _ He smirked with grim humor at his own whispering thoughts. They were right, of course. That made it no less annoying. Staring intently at his drink, Loki shook his head. The music pulsed an aggravating, bassy rhythm that wormed its way into his temple. Every coarse laugh from the Sakaarians around him grated his last remaining nerve. He needed to get somewhere quiet to think and recalculate. He needed--

A strong hand slapped his ass, hard. An involuntary gasp escaped Loki as he spun around; the shock and indignation of the intrusion shot up his spine, forcing him to stand ramrod straight. Loki was halfway through summoning a dagger that would find its sheath in the offender’s neck when he saw the familiar golden robes of his master and released the spell, hand falling limply to his side. The Grandmaster leered at him, clearly amused at his own near skewering. His fractured eyes were bright and deceptively blank; though Loki knew better. “Hey! There you are! I was starting to think you were  _ avoiding _ me.” The Grandmaster elbowed him in the stomach, smile widening.

It took Loki the span of a blink to slip into the smile he reserved for the Grandmaster. The task was more difficult than he would have liked, with the world still too loud and now his stinging skin adding to the cacophony that warped his chest into a bundle. “Oh? I would never,” he practically purred, taking the Grandmaster’s hand and encouraging it up his side like the good doll he paraded himself as. The Grandmaster responded with a half chuckle. “But where have you been?” Loki knew his question tiptoed the line that was the power that the Grandmaster held over him,  _ but if he had contact with Thor then he had to know; what if…  _

The Grandmaster tugged him close. Loki felt the ancient’s nails dig through the leather on his back at the same moment their thighs pressed together and hot breath tickled his ear. “You're  _ distracted _ .” Hastily discarding his drink on a waiting table, Loki leaned into his master in an attempt to dissuade a temper tantrum. Heart thumping with panic at his mistake, Loki forced himself to relax and hoped the Grandmaster wouldn’t notice. They swayed to the music, intimate and close for the briefest of moments. Loki drew spirals with his finger against the Grandmaster’s chest as the Grandmaster watched him with hungry eyes. “Playing hard to get is one thing… but I don't think that's it, my doll.” Though his voice was light, an angry undercurrent in it sent Loki shivering. Along with the  _ pet-name-that-was-not _ , more a reminder of ownership than any sort of affectionate term, Loki knew he'd found himself in an unfortunate corner. And he had to get out of it, fast.

“Oh, my apologies. How ever could I make it up to you?” Glancing around only for effect, Loki toyed with the Grandmaster’s thin metallic robes. He pulled a grin that invited pleasure, swallowing his pride for what felt like the thousandth time this week.

The look worked, as the Grandmaster’s eyes flickered with heat and the hand that had gripped Loki's back slid its way up Loki's spine until it rested at the base of his neck. Loki had only a moment to prepare himself. The Grandmaster’s mouth clashed against his and Loki parted his lips, welcoming more. The raw, ancient power of the Grandmaster ached through Loki's bones as they sunk to a nearby couch and the Grandmaster straddled him. The taste of that power off the Grandmaster’s being sent Loki's heart beating an erratic rhythm against his ribs and eased his greedy return of the kiss as his body longed for a taste of  _ more _ . Moaning encouragement, Loki felt the Grandmaster’s tongue in his mouth, hot, oppressive, possessive. Tears pricked his eyes as the Grandmaster tugged at his hair without delicacy. 

There was anger in his movements that terrified Loki even as the high of power spurred him forward. The only time Loki had displeased the Grandmaster, he'd near died after being thrown in the arena for a few rounds. His ribs ached still, merely thinking about the experience. It was not one he wished to ever duplicate.

Loki ran his hands down the fine cloth of the Grandmaster’s robes, all too aware of the eyes that were on them.

He didn't need hesitation, not now, especially not now. _But… If he were found out- Making everything more complicated, typical. He hadn't had a perfect plan but damn if Thor had managed to ruin even that. The idiot wanted back on Asgard, it'd kill him,_ she _would kill him._ Loki's chest tightened uncomfortably and his hands fluttered to an uncertain pause somewhere around the Grandmaster’s midsection.

When the Grandmaster parted from him, Loki let out a convincing disappointed whine as the thrilling buzz of power faded into nonbeing. He hoped his master was merely coming up for air, but when their lips did not meet again, Loki's heart sunk. Even as he hesitated, the Grandmaster still gripped his hair tight and kept Loki pinned underneath his thighs. There was clear resentment in the Grandmaster's eyes that didn't waver even as Loki kept up his low, longing whine. “Do you want me to kill him?”

Loki nearly choked on his own tongue. “Wha- what?!”

“Sparkles, whatever his name is.” The Grandmaster seemed to forget that his hands were tangled in Loki’s hair, as he attempted to wave one in some flippant gesture but only managed to tear at Loki’s roots. He laughed as Loki contained a wince. “ _ Whoopsie-- _ Your brother. I can kill him. He's distracting you.” The words were so matter of fact they sent Loki reeling.

_ Ha, as if you could; _ were Loki's first thoughts. But in the span of seconds, Loki discarded the childish notion. The creature could, if he so wanted. If not by the arena or the melting weapon his second in command wielded so liberally, then by the sheer power that surged through him. Yes, his master could kill Thor with a thought, if he pressed himself to that task. And Loki was the only thing that stood between that.

Finding it suddenly hard to breath, Loki stared at his master. “Are you… joking?” If his last question had been pushing insubordination, then this one had sprinted across that line and nearly erased it. He'd pay for that later.

Clearly the Grandmaster noticed, as he breathed heavy through his nose and loosed one hand from Loki's hair, running it down Loki's neck as if he thought of strangling him. Instead, he attacked Loki's neck with his mouth. He worked the skin until it was tender and red. Loki gripped his thighs tight, stomach hot as he whined again low in his throat. Teeth scraped against Loki's tender neck and he jolted with surprise, a small groan escaping him. The Grandmaster pulled back when Loki's entire right side buzzed in a heady rush. “No,” he said delicately, wiping at his lips. “I'll kill him. Do you want me to?” He seemed almost eager.

Grappling with himself to keep a level head, Loki ignored how the claiming mark on his neck throbbed and focused on the Grandmaster’s face, watching the cracked eyes he saw there for hints of deception. His mouth was too dry to speak. Instead, Loki managed a strangled laugh that sounded mad even to his ears. The offer was absurdly funny to him, suddenly. Finally, he found his tongue. “Where were you five years ago?” The spat words didn't hide Loki's nervousness. Still giggling, Loki's chest ached as the knot inside him tightened impossibly. He was going to tear apart from the inside at this rate. 

The Grandmaster frowned with unmitigated confusion. He traced Loki's lips with two fingers. “Well,  _ here _ I'm guessing. But is that a yes, my doll?” 

_No. Never._ _Don't touch him._ And a second later. _He’s not yours to kill._ Loki ignored how hastily his own thoughts doubled back on themselves. Every part of him ached, his ears rung. _Thor's life, in his hands. Oh, the irony._ And only he could appreciate it. Reigning in his giggling, Loki smirked and caught the Grandmaster’s fingers as they lingered on his bottom lip. “Why rob your champion of the honor?” Inspecting the digits, he tested them with his tongue. He thought briefly about slipping them into his mouth and sucking until the Grandmaster could not keep up this questioning, already he mapped out the course his action would set him upon.

But the Grandmaster pulled away and rose off Loki in a single motion, though one hand lingered long on Loki's upper thigh. The cheerful smile he wore still seemed spread thin. He gestured to the door and Loki followed him, hooking their arms together. They walked from the bar and left the droning beat of music behind. The Grandmaster kept up the tune in a lively hum.

It wasn't until they stalked some empty corridor, Topaz mere paces behind them, that the Grandmaster spoke again. “He would be dissapointed, yes. But there will always be others. My concern is for your wayward thoughts.”

If Loki did not know the Grandmaster only wanted him for hedonism, he might have been flattered. As it stood, a distracted doll was a poor one. Loki knew his novelty was what kept him alive in this moment; for now the Grandmaster fawned around him. Some time soon, that would change and Loki had no intention of being on this planet when it did. “Worry not. He merely surprised me.” Loki leaned into his master as they walked, doting upon him with false adoration. “I recover quickly, it’s a talent.” Had he not been busy peppering the Grandmaster's neck with delicate kisses, he may have laughed at his own dirty lie. Instead he settled for a smile as he worked, sure not to leave any such marks like the kind that still throbbed, hot and angry, on his own neck, 

The Grandmaster nodded, thoughtful as Loki had ever seen him even as Loki shifted to linger on his jawline. “Siblings are always messy business.” Loki stuttered a step, processing the Grandmaster’s words. After all this time of trying to pry information about Sakaar’s ruler from unwilling subjects, and here the madman himself was simply giving it away.

_ Because of Thor. Damn unbearable. _

Stroking Loki’s hand, the Grandmaster sighed. “I haven't spoken  _ properly _ to my siblings in… ages.” A sudden manic laugh broke his melancholy. “They're awful, miserable, unfun  _ snobs _ . No sense of excitement whatsoever. Can you imagine?”

Smiling, Loki flipped his hand so that their fingers locked and he moved to bring his master’s hand to his mouth next. He ghosted his lips across the Grandmaster’s knuckles. “Dreadful. Aren't siblings always?” Speaking of Thor here, with this  _ creature _ , made Loki's skin crawl with unease. Everything about it was wrong.  _ How dare he; _ Thor did not belong on this planet of criminals. He did not fit, not the way Loki had so easily slotted himself into Sakaar’s society. But the knot in Loki's chest twinged at the alternative.

“If someone gave me a chance to see them dead, I'd take it in instant.” Though the Grandmaster watched him work almost fondly, his voice somehow carried brutality among its usual airy nature. Loki would have been impressed, had that flippancy not lay in the head of he who kept him alive.

Loki paused, lips pressed against the skin between his master’s thumb and pointer finger. Not looking up, Loki spoke into his skin. “I- I--” _ I just got him back. Don't you dare take him away.  _ And suddenly Loki understood the knot in his chest. He could have laughed at himself again.

_ Was this what Thor felt when, what seemed like an age ago, he'd clawed his way out of Nowhere and the specter of death, the Titan’s scepter in hand? When Thor had learned he lived. No, surely not.  _ _ That was different. It had to be.  _

But the thought lingered and the indifferent look of his brother skewered Loki anew. 

The Grandmaster pulled him back, quite literally as he grabbed Loki's face and drew him close enough to share breath. “Well? It would be my pleasure.” This was a test, Loki knew so. Answer incorrectly and perhaps he'd end up in the arena instead of Thor. 

_ Yes _ was the easy answer, the safe one.  _ Yes; kill him. He means nothing to me.  _ And Loki would watch Thor die, likely be the one to strike the final blow, knowing his master’s tastes. And then Loki would be responsible for the failure of Odin’s line more than the death goddess who’d tossed them here ever could be. She’d be infuriated if she ever learned. She'd likely hunt him down. Just another name on a seemingly ever expanding list.  _ No _ would kill them both. Painfully. Loki was not enough of a fool to think he could talk, or act, his way out of that mortal folly.

In the instant that followed, Loki made a decision. “He'll be gone by tomorrow once he faces your champion. Why rob Sakaar of the fun?”  _ Not another family member dead at his hands. Not now.  _ Loki felt the Grandmaster relax slightly and knew he'd passed the test. He'd deal with Thor's victory when it came, because surely it would. Whoever the champion was, they couldn't beat Thor, even hammerless. No, Loki would not kill his brother this day.

_ Though maybe later. If Thor wouldn't listen.  _ Loki laughed again, this time it sounded not quite so mad. He felt almost giddy and could not, for the life of him, understand why.

“And your preoccupation?” Petulant annoyance still lingered in the Grandmaster's voice. It was something Loki need get rid of.

Lilting his laugh towards something breathy and easy, Loki pressed closer against the Grandmaster. “Absolved.”

“Utterly?” There was unspoken expectation in the Grandmaster’s words.

An expectation Loki knew he must deliver on. “Utterly and wholly.” Glancing briefly at Topaz, who scowled at him, Loki bit his lip and placed the Grandmaster’s hand low on his hips, rocking into the touch. Leaning in close as he could, Loki's lips lingered only a hair’s breadth from his master’s. Letting his voice drop low, Loki spoke. “Should I show you?” He watched his master with half-lidded eyes.

Burning lust flooded the Grandmaster's gaze as he inspected Loki and pulled him closer still until they practically ground together. The Grandmaster’s thin robes hid little. “Yes, I think you should.” Without looking away, he motioned towards a doorway along the hall. “Topaz. That one, clear it.”

Their lips were locked before the room was even empty, as the Grandmaster slammed him against the wall and burst white spots against Loki's vision. For the briefest second, while one of the Grandmaster’s hands worked its way into his hair and the other lingered about his navel, Loki hazarded a glance at those who filed from the room.

That was a mistake, as Loki locked eyes with the drunk junker who he heard brought Thor in. She narrowed her eyes at him and took a swig of her drink. The bottle didn't hide her sneer. The look brought red shame to Loki's cheeks even as he smothered the urge to pull away from the Grandmaster in an attempt to save face.  _ How dare she. She had no idea what he was. If she told-- _

The Grandmaster’s palm, that had methodically toyed its way down Loki's stomach, pressed heavy about his crotch, impatiently rubbing harder against him, and Loki's thoughts faltered as tingling white noise overtook his body. “Oh,  _ oh _ .” Hissing a shuddering breath into the Grandmaster’s mouth, Loki wrapped his arms around his master’s shoulders as the Grandmaster’s hand worked against him mercilessly. When his thoughts returned from the brink, the junker and the rest were gone and Loki was alone with the Grandmaster, who broke from him just long enough to pull him into the room.

Gritting his teeth, Loki abandoned his preoccupations. They would do him no good now.

Loki got no sleep that night. 

Even when the Grandmaster was through with him and he lay still, hyper aware of the Grandmaster’s nails scraping lightly along the base of his spine, Loki found no rest. Careful to keep his breaths steady and contented, Loki itched to escape from the room. He settled for lethargically tracing the Grandmaster’s marks that dotted his sticky skin, relieved that most would be covered by his armor.

_Thor could never know._ _Though_ , a snide thought reminded him, _if he did die in the arena, Loki wouldn't need worry_. _If_ he did die, but he wouldn't, he _couldn't_. Thor wouldn't fall on some filthy nothing planet, he was _Thor_.

_ Then again, he'd not expected Odin to breath his last on Midgard. Anything was possible these days. _ The thought was an intrusion. Loki winced and quickly buried it deep somewhere within the knot in his chest. He could deal with the past when his future was secure.  _ If it ever would be. _ That thought, too, he buried.

Finally,  _ finally _ , the Grandmaster left him alone to find some other frivolous distraction. Soon as he was gone, Loki leapt up, ignoring his stiff and sore muscles, and shot for the washroom. The hot water poured over him in a steady rhythm that Loki let soak into his tired body. He slumped ungracefully against the heated tile as the water ran over his face. The sensation was almost hypnotic.

This role, this game, was almost over; Loki could feel it in his bones. He could almost grasp his freedom. If Thor would not cooperate, then he could take the opportunity alone.  _ Thor always seemed to find his own victories, anyway, no matter what Loki did. _

Letting the metallic water fill his mouth until he rid himself of the Grandmaster’s taste, Loki fiddled with the panel on the side of the washroom. The over-sweet, cloying odor of the soaps provided to him burned Loki's nose and sent his body tingling as he scrubbed. It left his skin pink and irritated but he ignored his discomfort in favor of relishing the joyous feeling of being clean.  _ And how long until the Grandmaster ruins that? _ A bitter voice in his head poked holes in his small peace.

Giving into his exhaustion, he sunk to the tile floor and sat under the spray and closed his eyes. In the dark he could imagine the water was a warm summer's rain; that he was safe _-ha-_ that he was back on Asgard and not a nowhere dump. That he was not... not what he'd become.

It was a soothing lie.

Stopping the water when his skin began to feel his again, Loki stepped out and returned to his armor with a flick of his wrist. Some of the discomfort that prickled beneath his surface faded under the security of the blue leather. Adjusting his right bracer, Loki watched the glowing city that spread out around him. Smoke rose from some festivity, fireworks burst in greens and blues.

It had to be the day of Thor’s fight now. In a few hours time, Loki would deal with whatever outcome that would be; likely, he guessed, the displeasure of his master at the defeat of the champion. Loki did not relish anticipating how that fallout would effect him. It would not be fun, that he was sure of.  _ But if he could merely deflect the Grandmaster’s unhappiness onto one of his other pets… _

A red firework burst through the rest and lit the dark room with scarlet. Loki flinched as the color burned itself into his vision and stained his skin crimson for a few moments.

Taking a steadying breath, he shook his head and tucked his hands, no longer soaked blood red, behind his cape. There was work to be done.

The night turned to day as Loki worked to assure his safety, throwing another pet he'd traded a few pleasant conversations with in the past into disfavor with a smile and a handful of falsely spun doubts into the right listening ears. The chaos that would surely ensue would be gratifying was he not so annoyed that his escape would result from Thor's victory.

When the time came, Loki took his place in the Grandmaster’s box. He was sure not so show how relieved he was that his master was nowhere to be seen. The crowd roared and jeered as Thor stepped out into the arena, garbed in Sakaarian gear.

Loki couldn't help but snicker at his brother's near shaved head. It vividly reminded him of the time he’d shorn Sif.

Even as Loki smiled, Thor scanned the ground, movements wary. He looked up to the box and even from a distance Loki knew Thor had seen him. The acknowledgment made Loki's skin crawl with discomfort as the knot deep in his chest and his hand crept to his neck to assure none of the Grandmaster’s marks were visible, though surely Thor could not see them. He glanced back to assure himself that the Grandmaster did not lurk nearby. 

But no, as the Grandmaster’s projection announced the champion now and Thor turned away, jaw set tight. Loki recovered from the scrutiny and found himself eagerly leaning forward as the stadium rumbled and changed. He could see Thor preparing to face off and Loki's giddiness returned. The Grandmaster’s voice pitched up. “I give you… the incredible--”

A roar split the Grandmaster’s announcement and Loki’s lungs seemed suddenly devoid of air.  _ No.  _ He knew that sound. _ Impossible, it can't- _

Before he could even finish the desperate thought, the Avenger’s green beast burst through the arena. It roared and the sound rasped through Loki's body like a dull knife against stone.  _ Oh, oh no. This was bad. _ Backing up, Loki felt his heart jump to throat. “I have to get off this planet.” He could barely breath. Tearing himself from the sight of the beast, Loki pushed past guests indiscriminately, all of whom had likely heard his treasonous words. It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. He needed to get away. Somewhere far and hidden from all. His one hope lay in the slim chance that Thor could hold the beast off in time for him to sneak into the hangar bay. But without Mjolnir-

“Hey, hey!” The Grandmaster blocked him, smiling wide. “Where are you going?” The Grandmaster’s hand was on his chest, pushing him back, back towards the beast.

Loki opened his mouth to protest but found no words. 

_ Oh, this was very, very bad. _


End file.
